


Chain Reaction

by verbaeghe



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Slice of Life, Tampa Bay Lightning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-08
Updated: 2017-07-08
Packaged: 2018-11-23 03:24:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11394366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/verbaeghe/pseuds/verbaeghe
Summary: Slater's necklace arrives back from the jeweler...and then Braydon gets home.





	Chain Reaction

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lecavayay](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lecavayay/gifts).



> Thank you for putting up with all of us! (I really mean me) Enjoy! ♥
> 
> Don't ever to forget to thank your beta, unlike me...who almost always does just that. (You're the best! MUAH)

“Well, this seems like overkill,” Slater mutters to himself, pulling an obnoxiously purple velvet pouch out of the package he just received. He rolls his eyes, pulling it open and pooling the gold curb chain into his hand, mindlessly dropping the pouch onto the counter. He holds the necklace up to his face, tipping it to and fro, studying it.  

He shrugs. It looks clean enough to him.

His thumbnail is just catching on the little lever for the clasp when he hears the door open behind him. He throws a halfhearted glance over his shoulder, smiles. “Hey, Braydon.”

“Hey, yourself,” he replies, stepping up close. “Wha’cha doing?” Braydon adds, nosing gently along Slater’s hairline, hands sliding down to grip at his hips.

“My necklace arrived,” Slater relaxes back into Braydon. “Was just gonna put it on, that’s all.”   

“Here, allow me,” Braydon’s breath ghosts over the shell of his ear. He plucks the necklace from Slater’s fingers. He could do it himself, but he loves it _so much_ when Braydon gets all lovey like this, so he’s happy to encourage the behavior whenever it happens.

Braydon drags his teeth lightly over the tendons where Slater’s neck and shoulder meet, biting down sharply before pressing a soft, lingering kiss to the mark; a small apology. Slater sinks even deeper into Braydon.

“You know I love you, right?” Braydon murmurs under his ear.

“Mmm, yeah,” Slater hums. “Love you too.”

Slater is startled when Braydon turns him around and pulls him into a kiss, sucking on his bottom lip, fingers sliding into Slater’s hair. His grip is tight when he tips Slater’s head to deepen their kiss.

Slater loses track of time completely.

“That was…wow,” Slater pants across Braydon’s lips when the kiss breaks. Braydon smiles and then his lips are pressing back to the hot spot on his neck. Slater is almost painfully hard (god, he’s _so easy_ for Braydon), and he’s completely ready to move the proceedings into the bedroom...but then something occurs to him.

“Hey, what happened to my necklace?” he asks, tilting his head to give Braydon easier access. He does love having a good claiming mark to show off.  

Braydon pulls a hand back, which Slater is not here for, but a surprised bark of laughter escapes him when Braydon uses one finger to present his necklace to him. He hadn’t even noticed the weight of it resting around his neck.

Too distracted, he guesses.

“When did you even–?” his words are cut off when Braydon kisses him again.

 _‘He’s right. We can talk later,’_ Slater thinks while his fingers go for the hem of Braydon’s shirt. He pulls it up and over, dropping it and pulling Braydon towards the bedroom.

They shed clothes along the way and are down to their boxers when they pause by the door. Slater pushes Braydon into it, going up onto his toes, pinning him with a kiss.

Lovey is good, but sometimes he needs a little _more_.

It’s Slater’s turn to run fingers into hair, tug a little harder than necessary, move Braydon where _he_ wants him to be. He guides Braydon back to his neck unashamedly, shivering when Braydon’s laugh sends a gust of warm air into his neck.

Slater blindly searches for the doorknob; they stumble into the bedroom when he finds it. They push off their boxers as he hauls Braydon over to the bed, pushing him onto it once they arrive. Slater straddles him immediately, pressing their lips together and sighing when Braydon’s hands find his sides again.

Braydon’s hands tighten when Slater grinds down. He runs his nose up Braydon’s jawline, whispers, “Are you going to leave marks so everyone can see that I’m yours?” and his grip goes even tighter, which is exactly what Slater wanted. “Mm, that’s good.”

Slater nips at Braydon's ear as he tugs his hips free, swallowing the noise of complaint Braydon makes. “It will be worth it, promise,” he says on Braydon’s lips before making his way down.

He lingers about halfway down Braydon’s chest, nudges into the chest hair, noses around a bit. Slater loves the off season best, because it gets to grow; it’s soft and it curls so well. He isn’t there long before Braydon is pushing him along. Slater smiles into Braydon’t chest. He _always_ gets impatient.

Slater doesn’t waste anymore time, slipping right down and placing a slow, open-mouthed kiss to the head of Braydon’s dick. Braydon’s hips give the slightest twitch; Slater admires the restraint even as he tests it further by taking the whole length in one smooth motion.

Well, almost. He hasn’t quite worked up to all of _that_ yet...but he’s...never mind.

Slater lets his eyes drift closed, brings a hand up to circle what his mouth can’t handle, sucks a little just to get his bearings, and then he just...goes to town. He starts with sucking but quickly shifts to mouthing at Braydon’s girth in between firm strokes and Braydon’s body is already taut with tension, he’s already so close, and Slater loves that he can do this to him.

Slater glances up Braydon’s body, a small smirk forms on his lips when their eyes meet. “Are you ready to come for me, babe?” Braydon nods jerkily, taking care to not break eye contact in the process. Slater’s smirk blooms into a smile just before he makes himself look away.

He loosens his jaw, taking Braydon back into his mouth. Slater stops for a second, slowly breathing through his nose, then starts. Braydon grabs for his hair and the sting of the pull keeps Slater away from the edge even as he pushes Braydon towards it. Slater slides his hands around to Braydon’s ass, cupping it and redoubling his efforts. Braydon goes tight as a bow for a second, “Slater, I’m going to--” is all the warning Slater gets before Braydon comes, curling up and making the sexiest fucking pained noise that Slater has ever heard.

Slater pulls back, feeling more than a little self-satisfied at the sight of Braydon laying there a panting mess. Slater slinks up his form, tongue trailing up Braydon’s sweat-slicked body.

He ruts into Braydon’s pelvic crease, no real urgency in it because he has other things in mind for that, chuckling when Braydon whines, overstimulated.

“Sorry,” Slater says. Braydon smiles weakly in reply, reaching out to tug at Slater’s necklace, pulling him in for a kiss.

“What do you want?” Braydon asks on Slater’s lips after a moment.

“I want…” Slater squeezes at his thighs. “Can I fuck your thighs?”

“Whatever you want,” he answers on a heavy exhale; Slater feels Braydon’s dick jump, already interested in re-joining the festivities.

“Turn over, babe,” Slater instructs, reaching for the bedside table, rooting around for a bottle of lube. Braydon listens so well, like always, flips obediently.

Slater turns his attention back to Braydon. Well, to Braydon’s ass. They say that all hockey asses are nice, but Slater has a special, maybe biased, appreciation of this particular ass. He flips the cap and drizzles some lube into the crack, watching it slide down and disappear between his thighs.

“Ah, couldn’t you have warmed it?” Braydon arches his back in complaint.

“Probably,” Slater answers with a smirk. “Now, hush.”

Slater puts Braydon where he wants him, his ass tipped up, on display. He presses a kiss to each check, playfully biting the second when he slides his fingers between Braydon’s thighs, slicking the way.

He adds some lube to himself, stroking a few times because better safe than sorry, lining himself up and pushing in. “God, Bray. Your thighs are so--” Slater gasps when Braydon squeezes his legs together.

“Playing dirty?” Slater smacks Braydon’s ass for good measure, picks up his pace when he sees Braydon’s hand fist the sheet. He drapes himself along Braydon’s back. “Every inch of you is amazing, do you know that?”

Braydon’s head moves around a bit; Slater thinks it’s supposed to be a nod, decides to reward him, leans in to mutter, “You are so good at following directions; would you like to come again?” He makes a noise in the back of his throat that Slater takes as a yes. He shifts, taking Braydon’s dick in hand.

Slater loves sex, everything about it, really, but nothing in his life has ever compared to taking Braydon apart. He always has to be in control in every other aspect of his life, but he gives himself over to Slater completely and the high _of that_ is better than his own gratification.

He can’t _believe_ that Braydon trusts him like this.

Slater tightens the hand anchored on Braydon’s hip, his other hand speeding up. He’s rewarded almost immediately because Braydon shudders in release a few seconds later.

He sees how his messy hand is when it grasps at Braydon’s other hip and suddenly he finds himself right on the tip of his own edge “God. Fuck, babe. You feel amazing...” Slater trails off, his breath hitching as he comes between Braydon’s thighs.

He’s gasping for breath when he lays his head down on Braydon’s back. It’s sweaty, but he’s so overheated that the coolness of it feels good on his skin.

“Ah, what’d you do that for?” Slater whines when Braydon’s collapses onto the bed, artfully dodging the considerable wet spot.

They’re going to have to change the sheets, for sure.

“Because your ass is heavy,” Braydon says, laughing.

“My ass is perfect, thank you very much,” Slater closes his eyes and sticks his tongue out, so he jumps, surprised when Braydon cups his face.

“Yeah, you are,” Braydon’s voice has gone all soft in that way that makes Slater’s heart flutter.

“We should, uh, we should shower, maybe?” Slater asks, mostly to distract from the blush he feels blooming on his face and neck.

Braydon isn’t distracted, of course. He runs his hand down to Slater’s neck, cups it.

He brushes his thumb back and forth on the heated skin, then looks up, “Sure, okay.” Braydon leans in, presses a light kiss to Slater’s lips. “Your necklace looks great, by the way.”

Slater laughs, shaking his head as he gets up. He pulls Braydon up from the bed, lacing their fingers as they head  for the bathroom.


End file.
